Auburn
by Rasine
Summary: Although having escaped her terror-laden life, Bella has entered an equally frightening one. Backwards, beautiful, and alien to her, the year and world of 1918 has now become her reality.
1. Preface

**Whoo hoo! New story, everybody! Never fear, Grey Horizon will still be updated regularly. However, I was hit by this idea and realized that I had to write it down, so enjoy Auburn, a dazzling tale of young love and loss.**

**Auburn**

By Rasine

**Preface**

Even as my world literally shattered around me, I felt a warm cloud of relief overwhelm my senses. Freefalling, whirling through empty space for an eternity would be much better than having to deal with him. Although terror held a vice grip on every atom in my being, I was happy. Undeniably so. He had shattered as well in this moment, and I felt such a wholehearted satisfaction that it felt as if my heart would leap from my chest. Sighing contentedly as I fell, I realized that I was left to my thoughts and blissful silence. My eyes drifted close in complete euphoria.


	2. Terror

**Chapter One. I do hope you enjoy. Bella's perspective.**

**Auburn**

By Rasine

**Terror**

I gulped in the sweet, icy air as I halted abruptly, panting, doubling over and clutching my knees for support. The day was grotesquely sunny and clear. It was late autumn, and the bare trees and buttery sunshine gave no mercy to my plea for a hidden refuge, the shin-deep, rustling leaves providing no aid to my desperate flee.

"Bella."

My pursuer's call rang low and deep through the shivering brown limbs of the forest. He neither beckoned me, nor mocked me. Rather, he acknowlegded that he knew exactly where I was. I blanched, sprinting frantically further into the sparse woods, praying for a place to conceal myself from his cruelty.

"Bella."

His call grew nearer. My stomach flipped, a sour metallic flavor tainting my tongue. My eyes widened in fear as I glanced behind me, my rhythmic run never ceasing. The forest was empty, but I knew he was near. He was always near, lurking in the shadows of even the clearest, brightest day. I shouldn't have looked back, knowing my luck. A low branch I flew past caught my scarf, yanking me backwards into the deep auburn blanket. I gagged, ripping it from my neck, leaving it hanging on the menacing bough. There wasn't enough time to remove it.

"Bella."

Louder still. I wheeled around, my heart pounding deafeningly. I clutched my chest, trying to quiet it, fearing he could hear it ricocheting off of the sleeping oaks and pines. When I glanced up, relief sang within my veins. The crumbling stone house was only fifty feet away, a distance I figured I could make with the best of fortune.

If the door was open, I could get inside, bar it, and dial 911. I calculated this quickly, for at the moment, time was not my friend. The last few grains of sand in my hour glass were spiraling down the funnel. Quietly, I stretched my gloved hand into the leaves, suppressing a satisfied grunt when it returned with a heavy stick. I gritted my teeth and pushed all of my faltering strength into hurling it as far away from me as possible.

I heard a low thump, and then my pursuer's footsteps loping off in that direction. When I was sure they were fading slightly, I flung myself off of the thick trunk I was pressed against, flying towards the house. I grasped the rusty door handle and pulled, a strangled cry escaping my lips.

It was locked.

_No._ I shrieked in my mind. _No, no, no!_ I pulled again, straining painfully, frustrated tears welling in my eyes, threatening to spill over. The door sprung open joltingly, sending me staggering backwards before I regained my balance. I stumbled into the house and quietly closed the door, grabbing an ancient-looking wooden chair and wedging it underneath of the doorknob. I nodded once to myself, pleased. It would hold long enough.

I bounded up the stairs. The boards creaked under my weight. One loud shake of the door caused my breath to catch, and I lingered too long. My booted foot shattered the hundred-year-old stair, and I fell forward.

"Bella…"

I pulled fiercely on my foot, hot, terrified tears rolling off of my cheeks. I twisted my foot in one last, survival-driven attempt. The wood sliced through the nylon and deeply into my calf, but I was free. I scrambled up the remaining stairs and into a dust-clouded bedroom, ignoring the throb of my wound, eyes scanning the room frantically, another loud shake of the door downstairs causing me to wheel towards the sound. My head whirled back to the empty room. There wasn't a bed to hide under, and I would surely not get away from him if I flung myself through the second story window.

Another shake. Another strangled cry escaped my lips. Then, a tiny glimmer of fortune settled on my soul.

There was a closet.

I bolted towards it, gripping the icy handle and ripping it open. I bolted in, closing it as quickly and silently behind me as I could manage. I held my breath, pressing my body further into the darkness. Cobwebs intwined theirselves into my hair, tickling my nose, though I dared not sneeze, not even letting a single breath escape my protesting lungs. With a final shudder downstairs, I heard the weary chair groan and give way, splintering audibly, and the door slam violently against the stone wall.

"Bella."

His voice was calm, nonthreatening. The two syllables simply said: _I know you're in here. Come out now._ I hissed as he began to check the first floor. I could hear him overturning the priceless, century old furniture like filth. That had always been his problem. The constant lack of respect and ever-constant roughness. I shook my head, clearing it, and pulled out my cellphone. The blue light of the screen illuminated the tiny space around me, and I hurriedly punched in the numbers, thankful I had put my phone on silent earlier in the day. 9-1-1.

I strained to hear him. He was still tearing the lower floor apart, searching relentlessly. I let my gaze refocus on my phone. Bile rose in my throat as I took in the small, cartoon phone depicted on the tiny screen, a large red X painted over it. _Call not connected, _it announced, each pixel burning into my eyes. I was torn away from my horror by the sound of large, heavy feet making their way up the stairs. I heard a low, disturbingly nonchalant chuckle as he paused on one of the stairs.

"Mm, mm, mm. You are too easy to find, Bella." He lamented, clucking his tongue and continuing, slowly, up the remaining stairs. My heart thudded erratically, my shaking fingers flying over the phone's keypad, over and over again.

9-1-1.

9-1-1.

9-1-1.

The same announcement appeared repeatedly.

_Call not connected._

_Call not connected._

_Call not connected._

I clasped my hands over my mouth, stifling my terrified sobs as I rocked back and forth, pulling my knees to my chest. The door of the bedroom creaked open. I froze. He paused again. I heard the click of his shotgun as he opened it, the ringing sound of metal on metal as he slid the shells into place. It clicked shut.

"A hanging scarf? A locked door? A broken stair? Drips of blood? Much, much to easy." He sighed. "I know how much you hate blood, Bells. I hope you didn't scar that pretty skin."

I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing, begging, pleading to be anywhere but here. I braced myself against the wall as he gripped the rusty handle and began to pull, still praying, pleading, begging, wishing… hoping. My hourglass had shattered.

……………………………………

A deafening roar flooded my ears, shook me to my core. I began to open my eyes, planning to feel the pain of an open wound, to feel death encasing me. Instead, when I opened them, time had frozen. The shotgun barrel was pointed at my chest, his gaze emotionlessly staring back at me, eyes cold.

I reached my hand to push the frightening piece of metal away, but as soon as I touched it, the metal shattered, tinkling like brittle glass to the floor. I stood, mystefied, gazing at my fingers in awe. Suddenly, there was a discordial cracking. The walls, the floors, him… they all shattered, and I fell along with the shards into a blank, bottomless abyss, spiraling downwards in an ebony freefall, my teeth bruising with the force of my soundless scream.

………………………………

When I awoke, the roaring overwhelmed me. The first thing I noticed was that it was _hot, _blisteringly so. I opened my eyes wearily to take off my jacket. I paused, thinking. _My jacket_? _It was absolutely frigid out just ten minutes ago!_ I sat up straight, blinking groggily. I rubbed my eyes with my fists in an attempt to clear them.

I wished I never had. The scene around me was frightening, dozens of horse-drawn carriages rumbling noisily across uneven cobblestones. Women in heavy, long dresses bickered with shop owners at their stands over prices, and men stopped and conversed with one another over light-grey newspapers. I heard whispering behind me, and I stood too quickly, my head swimming, I teetered backwards, landing in someone's sturdy arms.

I blinked twice, gazing up at my savior. A round, blonde, baby-faced young man about my age smiled pleasantly back at me with warm blue eyes. The crowd of men and women that had gathered around us leaned in, resuming their curious peering and whispering. The young man huffed, annoyed.

"Scatter, all of you!" He commanded roughly. With a few irritated mutters and nasty glares, they obeyed, stalking off towards the crowds of people. He righted me and smiled at my confused expression.

"Miss, are you alright?"

I blinked again. Oh, right. He meant me. "Yes, yes, I'm… fine."

"My name is Michael. Michael Newton." He bowed slightly and took my hand gently, pressing his lips to it briefly before straightening.

I stared, but managed to choke out, "My name is Bella. Bella Swan."

"Will you be alright on your own, Miss Swan?" My brow furrowed at his formal manner.

"Yes. I'll be fine." He nodded, bowed slightly, and began to walk away. Dazed, I called after him.

"Micha- Mr. Newton!" He turned towards me.

"Is that today's paper?" I asked.

"Why, yes. I'm finished. Would you like it, Miss Swan?"

I nodded, lightheaded. "Yes, please." He handed it to me, doffed his hat, and walked off down the street. I followed him with my eyes before returning them to the newspaper I held in my hands, scanning the headline and date. My hands felt cold as the bundle of pliant paper slid from my grasp, thudding softly on the cobblestones. All noise escaped my ears as I stood, watching the scene surrounding me as if looking into the wrong side of binoculars. I looked down at the newspaper, trying to grasp the large, black print.

**Spanish Influenza Sweeps Nation**

**Chicago, ****June 2nd, 1918**

...........................

**What do you think? Leave me some nice reviews, okay? It took FOREVER to write this! It was especially hard making Bella's utter terror believable, so tell me how I did on that, it will be much appreciated.**

**Love love love! **

**Rasine**


	3. Savior

**My longest chapter ever. For anything! Enjoy!**

**Auburn**

By Rasine

**Savior**

I stared at the ominous newspaper for what seemed like an eternity. The tips of my fingers pressed painfully into my palms as I clenched my hands into fists, fervently denying the piece of print on the ground in front of me. I shook my head. _It's not possible_, I reminded myself. _I must be dead. He must have shot me_. I continued to gaze at the small bundle, my thoughts blurring and spinning. I barely noticed as a thick blanket of deep violet clouds rolled over the city, engulfing the clear blue afternoon. Rain began to patter against the street and rooftops in an unmusical clinking. The black ink of the headline bled and ran, the paper becoming an unrecognizable pile of grey as the water bombarded it.

Women squealed at the sudden downpour, ducking and trotting for cover in their heavy skirts. Men hitched their jackets up over their heads, a few chivalrous gentlemen offering their coats to pretty young women. I stayed immobile, watching the scene before me. I felt vaguely in the back of my mind as if my jeans and longsleeved shirt were horribly foreign and out of place to this atmosphere, as well as the thick winter coat dangling from my hand.

The marketplace cleared, the rain washing away any sign of life. I stood there, alone, my chest's rising and falling being the only movement in the square. A sharp clap of thunder caused my head to snap up unvoluntarily. Tentatively, I stepped forward, fearing that the ground would shatter. I peeked down. The cobblestones remained, steady and unyielding. I gasped as a spasm of pain shot up my leg, and my knees buckled. I fell, hard, to the wet ground. I broke my fall with my palms, cursing internally as tiny, sharp stones punctured my skin. Gritting my teeth, I heaved myself to my feet, shaking the stinging pebbles out of my hands. Determined and frustrated, I placed my foot firmly forward, my breath hitching as the pain returned. I trudged forwards, ignoring the jolts of burning that screamed up my leg with every step. I continued limping, letting the relentless rain cool and soothe the gash as I searched the city, unsure of what I was pursuing.

......................

I laughed to myself as I sat in the dimly lit alley, the mirthless sound bouncing off of the brick walls around me. My hair was soaked from the incessant storm, plastered to my face and sending riverlets of rainwater through my jacket and thin shirt. I pushed my hair off of my face furiously, slicking it back, raising my face to the ebony sky. I grimaced at it.

A sudden twinge of pain turned my attention to my calf. It throbbed, the deep wound surrounded by dried, burgundy blood. To add to the pleasure, it continued oozing fresh blood. I splashed some water from the puddle I was sitting next to on to the cut, scrubbing the dried blood off, ignoring my knowledge that this filthy water was probably not the best cleaning fluid for an open wound. I pulled my knees to my chest, resting my head on them, letting my back receive the onslaught of rain.

Vaguely, I heard raucious laughter and staggering footsteps approaching me. I lifted my head, too weary to do anything else. Four men loomed over me, smiling wickedly, their shoulders drenched. I wrinkled my nose at the strong smell of alcohol that was seeping out of their pores. With my back pressed against the wall, I slid to my feet, ignoring my leg's protests.

The man who stood in front was tall and dark, his shirt rolled up to reveal burly arms, his suit jacket thrown carefully over his shoulders. He looked to be in his mid-twenties. I watched in disgust as his eyes raked over my trembling form, and I pulled my coat tighter around my shoulders. The man smirked.

"Can I help you, sir?" I asked politely, straining to keep my voice from cracking. I fought to keep my expression unafraid. He ignored my question, stepping further towards me. I pressed subtly harder against the wall.

"Are you lost, sweetheart?" He purred, stepping even closer.

"No, I, I'm…" I fumbled for an excuse, stammering and wringing my hands.

"I can help you," He suggested, slurring his words drunkenly.

"I don't need help, thank you." I spat tersely, turning to escape out of the opposite end of the alley.

The dark man cut me off, smiling sickeningly. "Well, what about how _you_ can help _me_?"

I gasped, fury boiling in my veins as he trailed the tip of his grimy fingers along the curve of my waist.

"So young, so pretty, to be out so late… And all alone!" He lamented. "Whatever shall you do?"

His friends snickered behind us. I flushed in anger. I had had enough of this at home, and this man was surely not going to take away my precious hours of safety. Balling up my hands and sucking in a deep breath of air, I prepared to scream, swing at the filth, and run.

Just then, a shadowed figure caught my eye. The boy was about my age, and he slid into the alley, sauntering towards the men fearlessly. The four men wheeled around and scowled at him. I tensed, frightened. There couldn't be more of them. Five to one? It was hardly fair.

"Oh, thank goodness, you've found her." The boy smiled gratefully at the men, relief washing over his face. The men blinked, eyes wide. The boy strode over to me, removing his coat and draping it over my shoulders in one fluid movement. As he did so, he leaned close to my ear.

"Play along." He breathed, and my cheeks burned. I pulled together my scrambled thoughts. Two to four. I smiled, attempting to place an equally relieved expression on my face. The men remained unconvinced, eyeing the boy warily. My breathing grew shallow.

"Found who?" The leader growled. His face was taut, clearly upset that his night's entertainment was being threatened.

The boy blinked. "Why, my fiancée."

"And may I ask how one would manage to _lose_ one's fiancée?" The dark man's voice was rough, irritated, clearly not buying our ruse. His eyes flickered to my face, lust clouding his features. I shivered. "Especially one so lovely."

The boy beside me kept his face a smooth, calm mask. He draped his arm loosely around my waist. I felt my face return to a humiliating shade of scarlet, praying that I looked pleased and comfortable. The boy smiled encouragingly down at me.

"Go on, love, tell them the truth." He prodded, and I feigned a bashful expression, sighing in defeat and leaning into his touch.

"My home town in Arizona is so small. After getting off of the train, I found myself quite lost." I widened my eyes in false innocence, using my blush to my advantage. "I've never been to Chicago. I simply couldn't find his address," I blushed deeper as his grip tightened. "_Our_ address, so I settled here when I grew tired." I smiled timidly.

One of the leader's companions scurried off, and I watched him leave, slightly smug. Two to three. The two remaining men behing the leader glanced at eachother nervously. The boy beside me removed his arm from around my waist and offered it to me. I looped my arm through his, smiling wearily at the remaining men.

"Would you mind if we took our leave, gentlemen?" The boy asked, beginning to step forward. The leader stepped out of our path, annoyed, giving us a small grunt of access. The boy towed me briskly past them.

"Wait," The leader called, just as we reached the edge of the alley. We halted, and I glanced up worriedly at my companion. He didn't return my gaze, but turned us quickly around. I stumbled, gripping his arm for support.

"Yes?" The boy asked, a small amount of irritation breaking through his calm faςade.

"Where's your ring, miss?"

I gaped at him, a dozen horrible excuses shuffling through my mind, and he stared back, his expression smug.

I jumped as the boy's expression grew furious. "I haven't had a chance to buy her one yet. Is that all, sir? My fiancée is bleeding. I would like to get her to a hosipital."

The man nodded, ashamed, and doffed his hat apologetically to me before trotting in the opposite direction, companions in tow. The boy pulled me along, and I gasped as the pain in my leg worsened.

"Ow. _Ow_. Slow down!" I hissed through clenched teeth, pulling on the boy's arm.

"Slow down?" He scoffed and stared at me incredulously, not lessening his pace. "I have to get you to a hospital, and quickly. Are you insane, running around back alleyways at night?" He glared at me. My mouth popped open in shock at his accusation. My eyes narrowed as I ripped my arm from his. He wheeled to face me, surprised.

"I can take care of myself." I growled. Pain shot up my leg. I fell forwards, and he caught and righted me.

He chuckled. "Apparently not."

I ground my teeth. "Listen…" I paused, waiting for his name.

"Edward. Edward Masen."

"Yes. Mr. Masen," I announciated his name, mimicking the formal wording I'd heard so often during the day. "I didn't ask for you to come waltzing in and save me."

He rolled his eyes. "Well, Miss…" He paused, imitating my previous words.

"Isabella. Bella Swan." I spat, lifting my chin indignantly.

"Miss Swan." He bowed briefly in greeting. He leaned forward, promptly scooping me up into his arms. I blinked, and then scowled. "I'm taking you to the hospital."

"Put me down!" I protested, squirming.

"Put you down?" Edward asked. "Fine." He complied. The cut burned as my foot came to contact with the ground. I gasped, teetering backwards.

"Ow, ow! Okay, okay!"

He smiled smugly and picked me up again.

....................

Somewhere along the way, whether it was due to the rocking motion of his steps or the damp, sweet summer air, I fell asleep. When I awoke, my feet were bare and the legs of my jeans were rolled up. I sat up too quickly, alarmed, and the room spun. A plump nurse with a sweet, motherly face was seated by my legs, her name tag reading **Mrs. Flagg**. She chuckled as I plopped down on the lumpy hospital mattress, dazed. I attempted to swing my legs over the edge of the bed, but Mrs. Flagg stopped me.

"Oh, I wouldn't try that, sweetie. You've got quite the cut there."

"It's no big deal," I mumbled, "just a scratch."

She stared at me, eyebrows raised. "It ain't just a scratch, dear." A thick southern accent dripped from her words. "You're very lucky that nice young gentleman brought you in here."

I muttered something unintelligible in agreement, and she smiled.

"It was nice to meet you, Miss Swan. The doctor will be in with you shortly."

I sat up gingerly and nodded at her, murmuring a goodbye. She exited the room quietly. There was a small rap on the frame of the door. I glanced up as a young man's head peered in. It took me a moment to realize that it was the boy from the alley, his face looking startlingly different in the light.

His tousled bronze hair was slightly damp, and his eyes were a striking shade of green. He stood very tall, the tips of his tresses nearly brushing the top of the doorway. _He's handsome_, I thought, surprising myself. I blushed as he cleared his throat, ripping me back from my ogling. He shifted his weight from one leg to the other, clutching his hat nervously.

"May I come in?" He asked politely, pausing in the doorway.

I smiled, recalling the nurse's words. A gentleman, indeed.

"Of course."

He entered the room tentatively, sitting down in a small wicker chair near the edge of my bed. His eyes flickered to the exposed, open cut on my leg. Curiousity burned in his gaze.

"What did you do to it?" He asked, breaking the awkward tension. I shrugged, trying desperately to forget my frantic flee earlier in the day.

"Old stairs. Fell right through."

He raised an eyebrow. "I'm taking it that this wasn't one of your best days, Miss Swan."

I laughed at the truth in his assumption. "No, certainly not." He grinned back for a moment, and then sighed. I glanced at him, perplexed by his sudden mood change.

"For what it's worth, Miss Swan,"

"Bella." I interjected, and he smiled.

"For what it's worth, Bella, I'm sorry for my harsh words to you earlier."

I shook my head, brushing off the apology. "You don't need to apologize." I grinned. "All newly wed couples fight." He laughed, the sound welcome to me during this horrible day. Another rap on the door sounded, and we both looked up.

I gaped at the doctor. He couldn't have been more than twenty-seven. His skin was a perfect porcelain white, his eyes a glowing, warm gold. His hair was a buttery shade of blonde. To call him handsome would have been an insult. He was absolutely breathtaking. I shook the awe out of my eyes and watched as he took a stool from the corner of the room and sat down next to my bed with inhuman grace.

The thought made me look at him more closely. Inhuman...

He greeted me pleasantly. "Miss Swan, I see you have quite a cut."

I blushed and looked at my lap. "So I've heard."

He chuckled softly, introducing himself as Dr. Cullen. Afterwords, he turned to the door, beckoning to a waiting nurse, who promptly rolled in a tray of suturing tools.

"A few stitches and you will be as good as new, Miss Swan." He chirped, reaching for a brown bottle and a rag. I grimaced as he began to brush a large amount of iodine over the cut. It stung sharply in reply. He picked up the needle and smiled apologetically at me.

"This may sting slightly." I gasped as he stitched up the wound. Edward fidgeted beside me, obviously unsure of what to do. I turned to him briefly and patted his arm, letting him know I was fine. When Dr. Cullen had finished, he rubbed a tiny amount of ointment over the stitches and handed me the small bottle.

"Just a pinch will do. Every day." He reminded me, bidding me a kind fairwell and exiting the room just as fluidly as he had entered. A few moments later, however, he reentered, concern apparent on his pale face.

"Where are you staying, Miss Swan? Just so we can check you out of the hospital."

I opened my mouth and closed it.

"Miss Swan?" The doctor prodded. I blanched.

"I, um... I'll be staying at..." I fumbled with my words.

"The Masen residence." I blinked and stared up at Edward. He smiled at Dr. Cullen.

"Miss Swan is my mother's niece. She's staying with us for the summer." Edward helped me out of the bed. Dr. Cullen nodded and bade us a courteous good night. Edward acted as my crutch as we exited the hospital. Once we were out, I released his arm and smiled graciously at him.

"Thank you," I said earnestly, gripping my ointment bottle and stepping back, "For everything." He reddened slightly, shrugging.

"A small amount of kindness is nothing to thank someone for."

I laughed at his modesty. "A small amount? You saved me from those men, and you lied to Dr. Cullen to get me out. I would hardly call that a small amount of kindness."

He blinked. "Lied?"

"About me staying with you." I clarified.

He stared incredulously at me. "I wasn't lying, Miss Swan." I stared back.

"I couldn't possibly—" I began, but he hushed me, raising his hand.

"It is non-negotiable. My mother would be delighted to have a female visitor, and my father won't pay any mind at all."

I sighed, unwilling to fight, and gave in, limping over to him, clutching his arm for support as we made our way through the dim city.

................

When Edward opened the door, Mrs. Masen came stomping to the door, her expression a mixture of maternal worry and anger. Her eyes widened as she took in my grasp on Edward's arm. I quickly dropped it, abruptly teetering backwards. Edward chuckled and righted me. Mrs. Masen laughed softly, questions burning in her eyes as her gaze met Edward's.

"Mother, this is Isabella Swan. I met her in the square today, and it seems she is quite tired and lost after a long travel from Arizona. I told her she would be warmly welcomed here." He shot his mother a warning glance, and she fluttered over to me, smiling kindly.

"Come, Isabella, let us go upstairs. You do appear weary. I'll run a hot bath for you." She ushered me up the stairs, and I glanced over my shoulder at Edward, who was gazing after us in surprise. I shared the same expression, being taken aback by his mother's quick acceptance of me. She herded me into a small bathroom, handing me a fluffy towel and turning on the fawcett in the bathtub.

"When you're finished, dear, just take a right down the hall. You'll be staying the the guest bedroom. I'll leave a fresh nightgown and clothes for tomorrow on the bed."

I smiled in gratitude as she exited, and turned towards the beautifully warm water.

The bath was not as comforting as I'd thought it would be. I had to keep my stitches out of the water, and washing was difficult in the awkward position. I stepped out of the tub after a half an hour of the struggle, pulling the plug out of the drain. I dried my hair as much as I could manage and wrapped the towel around my body.

As silently as I could, I padded out into the hall. A small gasp came from the stairway. I felt my entire body turning crimson as Edward froze on the top step, his emerald eyes meeting mine. He averted his gaze quickly, flushing nearly as brightly as me.

"I'm sorry," He muttered, staring at the floorboards as I walked briskly down the hall, slamming the bedroom door behind me. My heartbeat slowed as I pulled on the fresh nightgown and undergarments and settled into the bed. I pulled the down comforter up to my chin, snuggling into the soft, feathery bed, glancing out the window as my eyes began to flutter shut.

It disturbed me as I lost consciousness that although the clouds had cleared from the sky, my own future seemed as opaque and clouded as the ominous storm.

**Ta da! The ending part took a lot of research. I was afraid there wasn't any running water in 1918, and that towels hadn't been invented yet. Anyways, I hope you enjoyed that one, it took a lot of effort. By the way, this whole story is before Twilight. I'm surprised I haven't gotten many reviews, for I feel this story is a million times better than Grey Horizon. **

**Anyways, REVIEW!**


	4. Concern

**Er… so… it's been a couple of years… enjoy!**

**Auburn**

By Rasine

**Concern**

I wasn't granted very much time for rest. Just as I was slipping into slumber, a light knock on the door jolted me awake. I groaned under my breath, ripping the down comforter off of my body and swinging my legs over the edge of the bed. I padded across the room, rubbing my eyes groggily. As I reached for the door knob, I paused, glancing down at the long, frilly white nightgown I wore, blushing slightly at the realization that it could be Edward at the door. My cheeks still flushed, I opened the door slightly, poking my head out, squinting my eyes at the bright candlelight.

"Good!" Mrs. Masen crowed, "You hair is still wet."

I stared at her for a long moment, my half-asleep mind not comprehending her words. "My… what?" She promptly pushed past me, lighting various candles around the room. I watched her in confusion.

"Sit. I'm going to show you how to properly do your hair." She ordered, pointing towards a chair in front of a beautiful vanity table. I sat obediently. Humming softly, she pulled out a hair brush from a drawer beneath the mirror, and then grabbed a candle from across the room, setting it in front of me. My form was then perfectly illuminated in the mirror. Mrs. Masen began pulling the brush through my wet tresses slowly. I sighed. It felt wonderful.

Mrs. Masen couldn't keep the silence for very long.

"You have lovely hair," She commented, "and it will look beautiful in curls. Hair always stays up best in curls."

"Oh, thank you." I responded, watching as she opened a drawer filled with strips of rags. She took one and wrapped a section of my hair around one, tying the ends of the cloth together.

"I've used this trick for as long as I can remember. My mother taught it to me." She smiled proudly. "Perfect ringlets every time."

I smiled back at her, wondering why she was going through all of this trouble just for me. She seemed to hear my thoughts.

"I know this seems odd, dear," She began hesitantly, "but if you're going to be staying with us for the summer, I figured it only fair that I got to know you."

"Of course," I murmured in agreement.

"So, Miss Swan," Her eyes sparkled at her next words. "Where are you _really_ from?"

I wanted to laugh. I almost wanted to say: "The twenty-first century," but I figured that it would not sit well with the current time. I smiled instead.

"Arizona."

Mrs. Masen looked slightly disappointed, clearly hoping for a juicier tale.

"Not much going on down there. How did you get here?"

"By train." I lied, and bit my lip. She didn't look convinced, but continued with her interrogation.

"Why did you choose to come to Chicago, dear?"

I grinned wryly. "I just really, really needed to escape."

She nodded, although the look on her face was perplexed. She shook her head and came up with a new question. "Are you involved?"

I cocked my head to the side, wary. "Involved in what?"

She smiled mischieviously. "Don't be coy. _Involved_." She repeated, putting more emphasis on the word. I blushed.

"I… was. It didn't work out." I chose the words carefully.

She nodded sympathetically. "I'm sorry."

I winced. "Don't be, please. He was horrible."

She left the subject knowingly. "How did you run into my Edward, dear?"

"Just coincidence." I said quickly. Mrs. Masen didn't speak for a long moment, still winding my hair around the strips of cloth.

"Ah… Coincidence. Such a wonderful thing, isn't it, dear?" Mrs. Masen mused dreamily as she put the last cloth in place. I nodded mutely. The corners of her mouth twitched up into a smirk. At my curious glance, she turned my head and gestured towards the mirror. I giggled at my ridiculous reflection.

My hair was piled all over my head in the rags. With a smile, Mrs. Masen turned towards the door and opened it quietly.

"Call for me in the morning, if I'm not up to wake you. If I am, I will knock." She smiled and jerked her chin towards my head. "Those contraptions are surprisingly difficult to remove if you don't know how."

I laughed softly and thanked her before she slipped silently out the door, closing it behind her. With a relieved sigh, I ran across the room and flung myself onto the bed, snuggling deep into the fluffy mattress and comforter. The uncomfortable rags didn't keep me awake long. Within seconds, I slipped into a luxuriously deep sleep.

…

A loud knock on the door caused me to roll over so quickly that I toppled over the side of the bed, smacking my head on the nightstand and covering me in sheets and blankets. I groaned loudly.

"Come in," I called, attempting to disentangle my ankles and wrists from the sheets. I heard the door open just as I freed myself from the mess of blankets on the floor, and turned to smile sheepishly at Mrs. Masen.

Edward let out a laugh so loud that it rattled the house.

"Miss Swan, you look particularly lovely this morning," He managed, breaking into chuckles in between the words.

"Oh, you're just jealous that you won't have perfect curls." My voice was teasing, but my face was scarlet from embarassment.

"You caught me." He held up his hands and grinned, and I laughed. Mrs. Masen darted into the room, various dresses piled in her arms. She glanced apologetically at me and then glared at her son.

"Out, now, Edward. Let me help Isabella get ready before you whisk her off into the city." She shooed him out of the room, and he flashed a dazzling crooked grin at me before she slammed the door in his face. I raised an eyebrow at her.

"I'm going out?"

Mrs. Masen nodded. "Yes, Edward would like to show you around Chicago, and I figured you two wouldn't mind picking up some apples and such for me from the market."

I smiled, touched. "Mrs. Masen, you've all been so wonderful to me. How can I ever thank you?"

She grinned mischieviously, her eyes sparkling. "Oh, I'm sure I'll think of something. Come, now, let me get those silly things out of your hair."

She had them out in minutes. I watched, fascinated, as she untied the knots and with a flick of her wrist, pulled the rag from my hair and laid it neatly into the drawer. As she had promised, perfect, soft ringlets swirled around my face in a dark halo. I looked at my reflection and beamed, lifting my right hand to gently touch the curls.

"Mrs. Masen, you made me _pretty_." I turned my smile on her. She flushed at my comment and turned towards the pile of dresses that she had set on the bed.

"Don't be ridiculous, dear, you were already lovely."

After piling my hair into a large bun, leaving a few curls out to fall gently against my cheeks, she stared at me quizzically. Then she smiled. In one smooth movement, she pulled a long, pale blue-grey dress from the pile of fabric on the bed and handed it to me.

"There is a chemise and underdrawers on the bed, along with stockings. It's quite warm out, my dear, so be sure not to be in the sun too much."

I thanked her profusely, but she simply waved her hand dismissively and skipped out the door. After I pulled on the chemise and underwear, I turned towards the bed, lifting the dress and holding it in front of me. I flipped it over, admiring the soft fabric, the delicate lace that trimmed the collar. Carefully, as to not muss my elaborate hairstyle, I pulled the dress over my head and turned around to see the back in the mirror. Then I wrinkled my nose.

Tiny buttons ran from the collar of the dress to my lower back. I managed to get half of them done, but I was no contortionist. With a sigh, I pulled on my stockings and walked over to the door, opening it and sticking my head out. I saw Edward leaning against the banister at the base of the stairs.

"Edward!" I whispered. He looked up and smiled at me.

"Yes, Miss Swan?"

"Can you get your mother for me?"

He cocked his head to the side. "May I ask why?"

I huffed, impatient. "I can't get all of the buttons on this blasted dress done."

He smirked, bounding up the stairs and stopping abruptly in front of me.

"I can help you."

He pushed past me into the room, and I stared at him with wide eyes. He grinned devilishly, but his eyes remained playful.

"Well? Turn around."

I stumbled back a few steps, bewildered. "Mr. Masen, this is hardly appropriate."

He laughed, all hints of mischief wiped off his face. They were replaced with kindness and amusement. "Miss Swan, they are _buttons_. I believe your innocence will still be intact if I do them up."

I bit my lip, considering. "Fine. Just be quick." I spun around.

Edward promptly fastened the rest of the buttons. I fidgeted for a moment, adjusting the long dress.

"Thank you." I told him. I walked over to the mirror, spinning myself around slowly. I smiled at my reflection. I looked as if I belonged in this time. When I glanced back, Edward was staring at me. I blushed, I'd forgotten he was there.

"Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be so vain." I smiled, twirling in a circle and beaming as the blue-grey skirt swirled delicately around me. "I've just never worn anything so beautiful."

Edward smiled. "I'm sure you look lovely in whatever you wear, Miss Swan."

I blushed, and Mrs. Masen poked her head in. "He says that to all of the girls," She stage-whispered. I laughed. Edward opened his mouth to defend himself, but Mrs. Masen was already ushering me down the stairs. Her left hand glided down the banister as we moved, and a flash of gold caught my eye.

"That is a beautiful ring." I commented. Mrs. Masen beamed.

"Do you like it? It was my husband's great, great-grandmother's. Edward will give it to a lucky young lady someday. Hopefully, someday _soon_," She stressed, smiling innocently at her son.

Edward sighed. "I wish you'd stop attempting to marry me off, mother."

"Not until I hear you say 'I do,' darling." She smiled pleasantly and opened the door for us. "Have a wonderful day."

"You, too," I murmured, walking out the door.

Edward and I walked side by side down the street, commenting on the heat and the beautiful summer flowers. Soon, the conversation lulled and we walked silently. I gritted my teeth as the wound on my leg began to throb. The pain grew with each passing step, until it became almost unbearable. What I would have done for some Extra-Strength Tylenol. Edward had been watching my distressed face, and he stopped me.

"Miss Swan?" He inquired, concerned.

"Bella." I corrected, but my voice sounded strange, watery.

"You're sweating. Do you need to sit down?"

Spots swirled in front of my eyes. I raised my hand to my forehead and felt beads of moisture. "Yes, please." I gasped, stumbling forward. He righted me by my elbow and led me to a bench under a cool, shady tree. I leaned my head back and closed my eyes. I felt a soft pressure on my face and opened my eyes slowly; Edward was using his handkerchief to dab the perspiration off of my forehead.

"I'm sorry." I murmured. "I'm not usually this delicate."

"You don't have to apologize." He said softly. "Would you like to go back?"

"No." I sat up straight slowly, and looked at him. "I think I'm fine now."

"Are you sure?"

I didn't answer for a moment, dazed. God, his eyes were green. Like celery. Or seawater. Pale green lined with dark green. And his hair was that bronze color. All tousled. And his mouth—

"Bella?"

I was shook from my thoughts when I realized that I was leaning very close to Edward's face. The look in his eyes was completely bewildered and somewhat amused. My face grew hot and I immediately backed away.

"I'm sorry. That was hardly appropriate. I… I think I just need some air," I told him, standing up quickly. He watched me sway for a moment, his mouth popping open in surprise. I walked briskly down the path that led into a small park lined with flowers and trees. Once I reached a small clearing, I plopped down in the grass and buried my face in my knees.

"What the hell am I doing here?" I whispered to myself. Was I in a coma? Did the bullet go into my head and not kill me and now I was imagining myself being swept off my feet by some handsome 1918 boy? Tears rolled down my cheeks. _Wake up_. I told myself. _Wake up_!

"Miss Swan?" Edward jogged into the clearing, gasping for breath. He knelt down quickly beside me. "Are you hurt?" He asked, wiping a tear from my face.

"No, I'm fine." I said robotically.

"Why on earth did you run off like that?"

"I just… needed some air, that's all."

"Yes, but usually when someone says that they don't wait an hour to come back."

"It's been an hour?" I mused. I didn't think that I'd been walking for that long.

"Yes, it's been an hour." He repeated, exasperated. He helped me off of the ground.

"I'm sorry." I ducked my head. "It just seems as though everything is happening so fast and I… I don't know what's happening to me."

He stared at me for a long moment, closed his eyes, and shook his head slightly.

"Shall we continue our walk?"

"Yes, of course."

We walked back through the park in silence. I glanced over at Edward, only to find him staring intensely at me. I flushed and quickly averted my eyes. A smiling couple walked by, chattering happily. After they had passed, I cleared my throat. Edward began to speak just as I opened my mouth.

"You didn't come here from Arizona, did you?" He blurted out. I stared at him in shock.

"I…" I sighed. "No, I didn't."

"Where are you from?"

"Well, I really am from Arizona—"

"But how did you get here?"

We had stopped walking. I turned to face him. His eyes burned with curiosity.

"I don't know." I said honestly. "I woke up, and I was here."

He pondered this for a moment, and then started walking again. I stared after him, and then rushed to catch up with him. We reached the street again, and Edward slowly offered his arm to me. I took it carefully, the way a person would touch an unfamiliar animal.

"I'm sorry to have troubled you so, Mr. Masen." I said slowly, trying to sound formal.

"Hm?" Edward seemed lost in thought. "Oh, no, really, you're the most interesting thing that's happened all year. All mother and I do is bicker about the war."

"The war?" I asked. "Oh, right. The United States entered World War I in April of 1917."

Edward looked at me strangely. I cursed myself for speaking of a current event as something from a history book. I fished desperately for something to say.

"Why do you argue about the war?" I asked after a long pause.

"I turn 17 in a few weeks… but I want to lie about my age and go to fight." His voice burned with passion. I dropped my hand from his arm and stared at him in horror.

"Are you _insane_? It's just trenches and men running back and forth at each other over a big piece of land and dying! And then even worse, they repeat the cycle over and over again absolutely nothing is accomplished!"

Edward stared at me, incensed. "It's the honorable thing to do!"

"It's stupid! And suicidal!"

Edward scoffed. "Scold all you like. I'm doing it."

I glared at him. "Where's the nearest army office?"

He looked at me in surprise. "A few blocks away, why?"

I started off in a random direction. "I am going to tell them your name and your real age and then they won't let you go!" I said fervently.

He smiled smugly. "What a wonderful idea. Except for the fact that you are going in the wrong direction."

I turned on my heel and headed back in the way we came from. "Fine! I'll go find your mother, tell her your plan, and then she'll show me the way!"

He blanched and grabbed my arm, staring at me with furious eyes. "You don't even know me! It's my decision. Why do you even care?" He spat.

I grabbed his hands and held them tightly. "I'm not about to let my only friend die in that stupid war! It'll be resolved in a year, anyways!" I glared unwaveringly into his eyes.

Edward stared at me with a strange expression on his face. I paled when I realized what I'd said. I dropped my hands. "I mean, it'll probably be resolved soon!" My voice faltered, the passion gone.

"Your only friend?" He asked softly.

"Of course you're my only friend." I mumbled quickly, stepping away from him. "I don't know anyone else here, do I?"

Edward stared at his hands, and then back at me. I blushed.

"I sincerely apologize, that was…" I began.

"Hardly appropriate?" He finished teasingly. He playfully shoved my arm, and I laughed. We continued on our mission to buy the ingredients Edward's mother had requested, talking lightly. However, everytime I looked at him, I felt the strong desire to change his mind, and to keep him from harm.

…

That night, I had dreams of young men yelling over the sounds of explosions, running through trenches and screaming in agony. I saw Edward lying lifelessly on the muddy floor of the trench, his green eyes flat and cold. Blood bloomed from his chest like a malicious red flower. I sat up, gasping. Knowing I wouldn't get any more sleep, I lit the candle beside my bed and slipped quietly downstairs. I sat beside the fireplace, drawing my shawl tightly around my shoulders and shivering. The coals in the hearth burned a steady dark orange. I added a few pieces of wood and poked the fire absentmindedly. Soon enough, I had a steady fire going. I warmed my hands contentedly.

The stairs creaked slightly, and I whipped my head around to see Edward rubbing his eyes groggily.

"Bella?" He said sleepily. "What are you doing up?"

I gave a small smile at his informal use of my name. "I had nightmares, I couldn't sleep. Did I wake you up, Edward?"

"Mm. It's fine. What were you dreaming about?" He plopped down on the couch, yawning. He patted the space beside him and I sat down, curling my legs up beside me. The vision of his listless eyes made me shudder.

"The war. And… you. It… frightens me to think of you going there." I whispered.

This got his attention. His eyes brightened slightly. "You're really that worried about me?"

I blushed, staring into the fire. "Don't act so smug. I'd be worried about anyone who was thinking about going to war."

He threw his arm around me tiredly, his eyes heavy-lidded. "I'm not thinking about going to war. I am going to war."

His breathing slowed and I saw that he was drifting off. There was no point in arguing with him now. He slouched down on the couch and pulled me in closer, pressing his cheek to the top of my head.

"Ed-Edward…" I stammered.

"Hm?" He seemed utterly unconcerned about our current position. I could almost see the sweet tendrils of sleep grasping him. I felt them creeping up to pull me under, too.

"Promise me something, Edward."

"Mm… what's that?" He didn't open his eyes.

"Give me until the end of the summer to change your mind, okay?" I whispered.

"Bella…" He sighed.

"Promise me."

He sighed again. "I promise. Now go to sleep."

I felt his heart beating strongly and steadily, and the warmth of his cheek. I sighed and listened to the steady crackle of the fire. Before I could form another coherent thought, I fell quickly asleep.


End file.
